Today, dear citizens is such a special one,
the midwife pulled him out and then exclaimed:
this cannot be an Aryan or a real Hun
and took a photo of the fellow, which she later framed.

His hair was strange, although he used pomade
when he was born it had the look of neatness, as if combed
he read in his green alder rough hewn crib De Sade,
and dreamed about the Russian Front, where Russkis roamed.

Thus April twenty has been etched deep into learned books,
the fame that Adolf sought turned into utter shame,
he was one of a handful known as supercrooks
and used a nom de plume and not his family name.

Herbert Nehrlich 2

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/20-april-braunau-am-inn/